


Good Clean Fun

by Lannister418



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alistair Smut, F/M, Humor, Masturbation, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 23:22:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15230271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lannister418/pseuds/Lannister418
Summary: It can be hard keeping clean on the road, and even harder getting two Circle-Mages, a Lay Sister, an Apostate and an exiled Qunari warrior to agree on anything, but there is one thing everyone can agree on...Alistair. Needs. A. Bath!!!!The last of the soap, a hot spring and some convenient bushes give Elena Amell and Sister Leliana the opportunity to discover what lies under the splintmail... and get more of a show than they bargained for





	Good Clean Fun

**Author's Note:**

> ***Trigger Warnings***  
> ***Semi-explicit male masturbation and mild voyeurism***

“Alistair! Maker’s Breath! Young man – when did you last have a bath?”

Wynne wrinkled her nose in disgust as Alistair sat himself down by the fire and pulled off his boots. It might have been Elena’s imagination, but she was sure the flames briefly glowed green as they were hit by the fumes from his socks.

“I washed my hands…” he mumbled, defensively, avoiding the older Mage’s eyes and trying to ignore Morrigan’s derisive laugh.

“I mean a proper, all over, bath; and a change of underclothes…” Wynne retorted, her patience finally gone “I’m sorry to have to say this but you absolutely stink.”

“I assumed it was the dog…” Sten said, causing Cully to look at him with an aggrieved whine “My apologies”

“I don’t stink…” Alistair muttered, mulishly, folding his arms across his chest “I smell like a man; how a man’s supposed to smell… a manly smell.”

That observation evoked another harsh laugh from Morrigan, ensconced safely downwind

“If a man is supposed to smell of rotten eggs and fishguts left to stew in the sun then, Alistair, you are truly the _manliest_ of all…”

Elena sighed quietly to herself and began digging in her pack, keen to derail the argument now starting to simmer all around her.  They were all tired and on edge, the stupidest thing could set them off, and she still had a lingering headache from all the Lyrium she’d needed to use in Connor’s exorcism.  She pulled out a small wooden box and handed it to Alistair

“I’ve got some soap left, and that hot spring down the hill is perfect for bathing…”

Alistair took the box gingerly, with an expression that implied she was handing him a live snake.  It had flowers inlaid in the lid, with some bright yellow enamel.  He opened it and sniffed at the few slivers of pale-blue soap inside

“It smells…” he was about to say ‘girly’ but noticed the four pairs of female eyes drilling into him just in time “Flowery... I don’t want to smell all flowery…”

“Alistair…” Elena hissed “You’ve not had a proper bath since I met you, and I’m not counting that time you fell into the river at Lothering.  I’m sorry, but Wynne’s right; you stink, and it’s not good for your health either…”

“But… this is all you have left…” he muttered, dropping his voice.  She must have been making this last since Duncan recruited her, there certainly hadn’t been any opportunity to go shopping for fancy-goods since then.  He felt bad for her, life must have been comfortable in the cloistered environment of the Circle Tower – and bit by bit everything she’d once taken for granted was being torn away…  “I don’t want you to go without…”

“There’s bound to be a merchant in Orzammar who sells soap” she interrupted “I can make do with plain water until then.  And, right now, you need it more than I do…”

“Oh… all right…” Alistair conceded, getting to his feet “I can see I’m not going to get any peace until I come back smelling of…”

He sniffed suspiciously at the contents of the soapbox again

“Rosemary and Thyme” Elena helpfully informed him “My favourites…”

“I’m sure the Darkspawn will appreciate that…” he grumbled as he stomped off

A few minutes later, as she tried to untangle her knitting wool, Leliana came across and whispered in her ear.  Elena looked at her in surprise for a moment then giggled and, suppressing her smirk, got up and walked across to Wynne

“Leliana and I are going to look for herbs” she said, as innocently as possible “Is there anything you need?”

“I could always do with more Elfroot…” Wynne replied, giving the two young women a slightly suspicious look “and Spindleweed if you can find any… just don’t go wandering anywhere you shouldn’t...”

“I promise we shan’t stray…” Elena laughed, then called over to Morrigan “Deathroot and Skullcap for you?”

The Apostate smiled dryly in response; the young Circle-Mage was proving less… disagreeable… company than she first feared

“I am quite fine, although the offer is appreciated.  But should you find a juicy young root to pluck I don’t expect that will stop you…”

##

It wasn’t the first time either woman had seen a naked man, but Alistair was unquestionably an impressive sight. Despite the lingering puppy fat still softening his features his body was solid, and powerful with the hard, functional muscles of a man used to long hours of training.

Elena and Leliana huddled in the bushes just above the hot springs, watching breathlessly while the young Warden whistled tunelessly as he soaped up his chest and shoulders; working it into a rich lather and scrubbing vigorously under his arms.  His back was to them and the gently steaming water of the warm springs barely reached the top of his thighs; allowing them a perfect view of the suds trickling down the contours of his broad back, as well as the clear contrast between the tanned skin of his torso and the paler tones of his rounded, but firm looking, backside…

He couldn’t deny he had let himself get a bit stinky.  It happened when you were on the road with just a bunch of men for company.  Duncan never commented on it; except for that one time when they had a bet about who could go the longest without bathing and he ordered them all to the tubs at the end of the second week.  He’d just not… well, he’d just not felt like it since Ostagar.  He’d told himself there wasn’t the opportunity – even though somehow the women always seemed to manage it… but it just seemed pointless somehow, something that didn’t really matter anymore…

The warm water did feel good on his skin, though, and the smell of the soap… it smelled like her; rosemary and thyme, sweet and refreshing.  When he’d kissed her after she found his mother’s amulet it was like embracing a summer meadow.  The memory of that kiss lingered as he continued to lather his torso - hands gradually moving down over his stomach in slow, lazy, circles – he was afraid he’d gone too far; just because she’d been nice to him didn’t mean she wanted to… well… get intimate…

But she hadn’t pushed him away; she’d kissed him back, resting her head against his chest and saying how much she cared about him… and tonight – okay, she did say he stank; but that was the truth and she’d been nice about it, giving him the last of her soap.

Alistair closed his eyes and a soft moan escaped his lips as he thought about her scent, and how soft her hands were; pale and delicate, not made for fighting, they’d feel like feathers brushing his skin… so gentle… like a spring breeze.  His own touch grew lighter as he tried to imagine those were her fingers tracing their way down below his navel, teasing through the damp curls of hair at his groin…  Even as the thought formed he was hard, gasping as his fingertips grazed the sensitive skin on the underside of the shaft… then coughing as he inhaled a faceful of soapsuds

Leliana and Elena glanced at each other, suppressing their giggles as Alistair – spluttering and choking – ducked his head under the water to rinse off the lather.  Re-emerging a few seconds later, hair plastered flat to his head, he turned to take another piece of soap from the box that sat on the boulder jutting into the pool. Elena clamped her hands over her mouth, looking across at Leliana who was biting down hard on her knuckle...

It must have been the warmth of the water, but Alistair was at full mast, standing out curved and proud with the tip on a level with his belly-button. She pressed her hands harder against her mouth stifling the urge to squeal; he was even bigger than Cullen – in fact his hand could barely close around its girth as he began to soap between his legs.  She glanced at Leliana, eyes wide with gleeful disbelief as Alistair bit his lip and – glancing nervously around to make sure he was unobserved – started to move his right hand with slow, even strokes; gently cupping and squeezing his balls with his left.

From the shelter of the undergrowth they had an almost unobstructed view as he leaned back against the boulder, spreading his thighs a little wider, eyes closed and breath quickening as his hand moved faster – Elena could tell from the clenching of his stomach muscles that he wouldn’t last much longer. His face was reddening and his breath so hoarse and rapid they could hear it where they crouched. After only a minute or so more his whole body tensed in a series of shuddering spasms as he let out a low, gasping, moan before collapsing – panting and sweating – against the rock.  He lay there for a moment, catching his breath, before scooping up palmfuls of water to rinse off his stomach and chest…

Alistair turned his head sharply, hearing a motion in the bushes further up the hill, and for a moment stood poised and ready to jump for his sword – but it must have been a fox or badger, there was no hint of Darkspawn anywhere near… although, just for a second.  He shook his head with a laugh, that was a ridiculous thought… he had to have imagined it! With a long, happy, sigh he picked up Elena’s soapbox and waded over to get his towel.  


###

“Is this all you managed to find?” Wynne asked, looking at the small bundle of Elfroot then back up at the two women who were quite clearly still trying to suppress their laughter

“It… mustn’t be the right area for it…” Elena stammered out, trying to surreptitiously pinch herself

“And you did warn us not to wander too far…” Leliana added with mock solemnity. 

“Hmmpfh! I think you wandered just far enough…” Wynne retorted as Alistair stomped back into view

“All nice and flowery… anyone want to sniff?” he called out, raising his arm “Even little Alistair’s spick and span…”

“Not so little…” Leliana whispered to Elena, causing her to giggle again and earning another scowl from Wynne

“We do not need that much information…” she retorted, returning her attention to Alistair “but you’re just in time, soup’s almost ready…”

Alistair came over to Elena, still desperately trying to compose herself, and handed the box back to her with a grateful smile

“I didn’t use all of it… there should be enough left to last you another couple of days.”

To his delight, she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek before sniffing at his neck

“Thank you, and you do smell lovely! Now, for a special surprise…” she reached down to her pack and pulled out what she’d finished working on the night before “Clean socks!”

Alistair’s jaw dropped

“B-b-b-but… they… they’re PINK!”

“It’s the only wool I have left…” Elena pouted “and it’s as warm as any other colour.”


End file.
